will fail to recognise:

"'If nothing is added to the material facts so far established, I
fear that the mystery which surrounds the abominable crime of which
Mademoiselle Stangerson has been the victim will never be brought to
light; but it is to be hoped, for the sake of our human reason, that
the examination of the walls, and of the ceiling of The Yellow Room
--an examination which I shall to-morrow intrust to the builder who
constructed the pavilion four years ago--will afford us the proof
that may not discourage us. For the problem is this: we know by
what way the assassin gained admission,--he entered by the door and
hid himself under the bed, awaiting Mademoiselle Stangerson. But
how did he leave? How did he escape? If no trap, no secret door,
no hiding place, no opening of any sort is found; if the examination
of the walls--even to the demolition of the pavilion--does not
reveal any passage practicable--not only for a human being, but for
any being whatsoever--if the ceiling shows no crack, if the floor
hides no underground passage, one must really believe in the Devil,
as Daddy Jacques says!'"

And the anonymous writer in the "Matin" added in this article
--which I have selected as the most interesting of all those that
were published on the subject of this affair--that the examining
magistrate appeared to place a peculiar significance to the last
sentence: "One must really believe in the Devil, as Jacques says."

The article concluded with these lines: "We wanted to know what
Daddy Jacques meant by the cry of the Bete Du Bon Dieu." The
landlord of the Donjon Inn explained to us that it is the
particularly sinister cry which is uttered sometimes at night by